Mordred the Stalker and Pan the Shortie
by CaptainSquishy
Summary: Peter Pan never fails. Unfortunately for him, he didn't fail at kidnapping a particular girl's friend, Scottie. And now she's coming for him, with a high I.Q. and dying will to bring Scottie home. But will she succeed? Or will she decide to stay with Pan and his mischievous Lost Boys? (Next Update should be 1/12/14)
1. Prologue

PROLOGUE (Narrator P.O.V.)

The girl closed the attic door slowly, her eyes sparkling with excitement and anticipation as she made her way towards the window. At last she reached it, using her hand to wipe dust off the glass. She adjusted her purple beanie so that it covered more of her chestnut locks-slanting her tri-color pupils when it fell off-before finally satisfying her ideal placement of the hat.

Leaning her face against the glass, she smiled. It would be her last view of this boring city, so why shouldn't she enjoy it? Turning away from the window, she shrugged off her backpack and examined its contents for the sixteenth time. Flashlight, extra clothes, various herbs and medicines, rope, knives, weighted gloved, lighter, bandages, tools, more clothes, extra arrows, rations, and cookies. Check.

Pulling a bow and set of arrows from behind a crate of unimportant trash that was of no relation to her, she replaced her backpack, slung the bow around her neck, and attached the arrow case to the worn out wood. Also from behind the crate she procured a tool belt filled with more knives, knuckle crushers, poison darts, screwdrivers, batteries, and smiley face stickers. The girl hooked it around her waist, then triple checked that she had everything she needed. Finding something she overlooked, she gasped.

Not only had she overlooked something, but it was the most important thing of all. She dug around behind the crate, finally grabbing a hold of what she had been searching for. Dusting it off, she beamed and hugged the journal. It was just a journal. But it was a journal of secrets-secrets that would lead her to Scottie, one of her friends who had been taken by the man whose name was written on the cover of the book in her hands. They were secrets about Peter Pan.


	2. Chapter 1 - Stakes

CHAPTER 1- STAKES (Mordred's P.O.V.)

I woke up, not quite remembering what had happened but with the knowledge that something did happen. I rolled over, trying to find the energy and will to get up from the soft ground. Wait-what ground? I was in my attic. But what I was feeling was surely grass and dirt! This thought gave me the incentive to stand. I observed my surroundings. A forest lay ahead of me and two figures emerged from it. I began walking towards them, making sure my beanie wasn't falling and that my backpack was still secure on my back. My bow had snapped clean in two as if I had been thrown from the sky, but my arrows were fine. Fat lot of good they'd do me without their counterpart.

Waving my hands in the air was useless,-they were obviously coming towards me-but I did so anyway. At last our paths crossed, the two infront of me solemn faced while I was beaming like the sun. "Hello, gents! Nice hood, blondie, what's your name?" I asked cheerily. The tall boy on the right (the one I was talking to) just stared at me. "Is your name Felix? You look like a Felix. I think most Felixes are tall, quiet, and blonde. But so are Damiens. Well, most of the time. I knew this one Damien that never shut up, was shorter than Snooki, and had horribly dull black hair. I also knew a-"

"But miss, wh-what about me? Don't I look like I have a name?" the other kid piped. I stopped mid sentence to face the little kid-he was at most ten or eleven.

"Of course you do! You look like a Smitt. Like a Jonathan Smitt. Is that your name?" I asked, smiling at him. He nodded eagerly.

"I go by Smitt, though."

"Can I call you Smittie? I like to add -ie to people's names. It's kind of my thing, y'know?" the kid nodded again and I turned back to the blond.

"As for you...Fefie? If you don't mind," I chimed. He gave me a blank stare before exhaling in possible frustration.

"I don't care what you call me...you're going to be leaving soon anyways," he said slowly. I liked the sound of his voice-kind of high for a guy, but patient and calming. What I didn't like were his words. My smile disappeared.

"Why will I be leaving?" I questioned, confused. He turned around, beginning to walk in the direction he came from. Smittie and I stayed stationary. His voice droned behind him, stabbing me through the air like tiny daggers.

"...This is Neverland, don't you know?...You were brought by Peter Pan's shadow...but you're a girl."

"So?" I queried in return, confused at why this mattered. Smittie shifted uncomfortably infront of me.

"...Miss, Peter Pan only has Lost Boys. Not Lost Girls. He's going to send you home."

"Well...you never know unless you try, right? So c'mon, Smittie, let's go ask him!" I grinned, jogging to catch up with Felix. "Hey, Fefie, you really are tall. But I doubt that you lot drink milk out here, so how'd you get so tall? Really, genetics are a wonder. I studied them in sixth grade, but it didn't help much. All my teacher did was sit there at her desk drooling at pictures of Adam Levine. People say he's the sexiest man alive, but I'm not seeing it. D'you think it's the tattoos? But I suppose you wouldn't know, since you're not me-" Suddenly, Felix whirled around. I stopped too, except Smittie slammed into my back unceremoniously, yelping and planting his bottom on the floor of the forest.

"Stop rambling. If you can't find something useful to say, then don't say it. All you're doing is making this awkward," he stated flatly. I gaped at him before responding.

"So, then...if I don't talk, will it not be awkward?" I asked, almost pleading. He looked at me for a while.

"If you don't talk...it won't be awkward," he confirmed. I smiled again.

"Okay! Let's keep moving, though." He stared before nodding slightly and continuing his fast-paced stride further into the forest. I followed, Smittie behind me, and focused on the waving pattern of Fefie's cloak. The rest of the trip proceeded just like this; all was quiet, all was peaceful, all was not awkward.

After what I estimated to be roughly fifteen minutes before a new hour, we finally broke camp. It was loud and rambunctious-so much that I had to cover my ears until I was adjusted to the burst of sound. Smittie tapped on my shoulder and I tilted my head back to listen. "Now. Now you can talk," he grinned mischievously before dashing off further into the camp. I re-focused on Fefie, and he turned to face me.

"Welcome to camp. Pan's this way, follow me." And so I did. But as we walked through the camp, the boys around us grew silent and stared at me with wide, confused gazes. I beamed at them all. Then my smile was interrupted as Fefie shoved me forward. I looked at the boy infront of me-a brunette with big ears and tell-tale eyes of a troublemaker-and he looked at me, a smirk on his face.

"So I see my shadow brought a girl here. You seem to be armed well," he said, nodding towards my tool belt and backpack, as well as my broken bow and arrow set.

"I studied up on Peter Pan. Every book about you in my world, I found. Every fanfiction, every TV show, every diary. I went through 56,783,245 pages on Google out of about 74,000,000. And the one thing I gathered from all that info was that you were a devil and I needed weapons."

"So basically, you're a stalker."

"At least I'm not a shortie," I retorted lightly. His grin disappeared and he stood up to find himself barely to my chin.

"Did you just call me short?"

"No, I called you _shortie_. Pay attention, Pan," I responded. He stared into my eyes for a minute before bursting out laughing and returning to his seat.

"You've got fire. I like fire. But if you read all those things about me, why are you here? Because I'm assuming it isn't related to me being a devil."

"You're right. Which allows me to get to the point. I'm looking for a boy named Scott. Thirteen years old, curly blonde hair with brunette roots, pale blue eyes, and a pretty smile. You kidnapped him about a week ago."

"Mordred?" a new voice suddenly piped. I sighed with relief. Scottie. The boy popped up out of nowhere. "But...why are you here? Nick's soccer game is today!"

"Is it? Sorry, I thought finding you was more important. Nick's team is going to lose anyways. He always kicks it out of bounds and he's their best kicker."

"Yeah, I don't know how he does that. It's kind of strange."

"I know, right? I mean, if your kick's that powerful, just strap weights around your ankles."

"Exactly! But he refuses-"

"Hey. Sorry to interrupt your little chit chat, but this is _my_ camp, and right now you happen to not be paying attention to _me_. Look, little girl. I don't know what part about Neverland you missed in your research, but nobody leaves. Once you're here, you stay here until you die. And you're in Neverland now. You're not going home and you're not taking my Lost Boy with you."

"Oh, shut up, Pan. I said I came here to _find_ Scottie, not take him home. You idiot, I was never planning on going back to that crappy town. And even if I was, I would never take Scottie back with me," I laughed. Everyone around us got quiet. Pan glared at me, and they all gasped. I giggled and poked his eyebrow. "Your eyebrows are amazing! How do you do that?" I exclaimed before trying to mimic his facial expression. He stopped glaring and stared at me cautiously.

"Scott," he said, still watching me, "Is she some sort of alien?" Scottie laughed.

"No, sir...actually, we were trying to decide what she is in class the other day, but it came down to witch, necromancer, panther, and shapeshifter. You should see her with makeup, we had no idea who she was."

"Necromancer? That's a new one."

"I think she's an alien. A stalker alien. That's the worst kind," Pan smirked.

"So I'm a stalker alien and you're a devil shortie. That works," I countered. Again his grin disappeared.

"Alright, Miss Stalker. It appears to me as if you're picking a fight," he hissed, holding out his arm. A Lost Boy tossed a sword at him and he caught it expertly. "So a fight you will get. But first, let's set stakes."

"Sure. If I win, I get to stay. As a Lost Girl. First one to disarm the other wins," I said quickly, pulling out a knife.

"Wait, wait, wait. I haven't set _my_ conditions."

"Well, what are your conditions? I don't exactly have anything you want."

"Of course you don't. But you are extremely annoying and I don't like girls, so if I win, I get to kill you."

"Deal," I agreed, just as Scottie protested. Pan grinned.

"Then let's begin."

[Author's Note: So, I'm not completely sure if I portrayed the characters right, but...I haven't yet watched the third season,-only bits and pieces-so please pardon my mistakes. Also, the main character's name is Mordred Secret. It's an alias, but I'll get into that in a later chapter. Thank you for reading! -CaptainSquishy]


	3. Chapter 2 - Mordred Secret

RECAP:

"Alright, Miss Stalker. It appears to me as if you're picking a fight," he hissed, holding out his arm. A Lost Boy tossed a sword at him and he caught it expertly. "So a fight you will get. But first, let's set stakes."

"Sure. If I win, I get to stay. As a Lost Girl. First one to disarm the other wins," I said quickly, pulling out a knife.

"Wait, wait, wait. I haven't set _my_ conditions."

"Well, what are your conditions? I don't exactly have anything you want."

"Of course you don't. But you are extremely annoying and I don't like girls, so if I win, I get to kill you."

"Deal," I agreed, just as Scottie protested. Pan grinned.

"Then let's begin."

CHAPTER 2 - MORDRED SECRET (Scottie's P.O.V.)

I watched silently as Mordred and Pan pointed their blades at eachother, my hands balled into fists. Should I interfere? But no, both Pan _and_ Mordred would be mad at me. Yet, I couldn't watch her get killed! She came all the way here for me, it wouldn't be fair for her to die.

At the same time, I'd never seen her lose a fight...Pan plays dirty, though, so this wouldn't be like other fights. Unconsciously, I moved my hand to the hilt of my dagger, hoping-praying-that Mordred would win and I wouldn't have to use it. Suddenly, a hand covered my own, and I turned to look up at piercing eyes and the emotionless face of Felix. "I wouldn't, if I were you...We all know how Pan deals with traitors," he spoke quietly enough that the two duelers didn't hear, but loud enough for several boys to look our way. I glared at Pan's wing man.

"He's going to kill her, Felix. It's my fault she's here-"

"Do you really think it's your fault?...She came here on her own...Look at her and tell me that she'd ever blame you for her being here. Regardless of what you think, that fool came here by her own will...And she came prepared for the consequences," he finished, bending down to look at me dead in my eyes. My resolve crumbled as I turned back to the fight. Mordred wasn't going to lose. If she was going to lose, her own eyes wouldn't be shining with confidence and she wouldn't be smiling.

I snatched my hand away from the blond. "...You're right," I grudgingly admitted, focusing once again on the fight. I could feel Felix's eyes on me, but ignored their piercing gaze. "Mordred," I called, right when they were about to start the match. Pan glared at me, but Mordred looked happy that I was talking to her.

"Sup, Scottie?"

"Well, see, I was just wondering...whose knife is that?" I asked, pointing to the blade in her hand. She grinned.

"It belongs to a certain purple panda, if you read me," she chuckled a bit. I snorted.

"You have _got_ to stop doing that!"

"Doing what?" she asked innocently. I rolled my eyes.

"_You_ can explain the purple panda later, but for now continue your battle to the death or whatever," I grunted. She smiled and Pan put his hand on his hip, cocking his head towards me with an odd expression on his face.

"Scott, you're talking like there'll _be_ a later for her. Do you think I'll lose? Me, Peter Pan? Who never fails," he added darkly. I matched his gaze for a second before looking away. "Well?" While his attention was focused on me, Mordred took the opportunity to trap his wrist between the edge of her hand and her knee. Recoiling in shock and probably pain, he dropped his sword. With an air of anger, he turned to face her. "What-"

"I win, Pan."

"_What_?" he hissed.

"Whoever called a time out? There were no rules about blade contact only. I win," Mordred smiled at him. His anger faded quickly, though he still looked annoyed.

"So you used Scott as a distraction," he appeared genuinely impressed, "And here I thought you'd fight fair."

"No fight is fair, Pan. I was just playing to my advantages. If you'd won, that's what you'd say, too," she said. His smirk returned.

"And who's to say I lost? Certainly not you. You're out numbered. You don't know this terrain either, so it's not like you could run. I could kill you right now," he walked up to her, looking up into her eyes.

"Peter Pan never breaks a promise. Or are you going to break that promise? In reality though, by breaking the promise with me you'd be breaking the promise of Peter Pan, and since Peter Pan is an alias then the alias would be broken of its use, and therefore there would no longer be a Peter Pan." It was silent for several minutes, in which Pan and Mordred's gazes were locked. Then Pan began to clap, a new grin lighting up on his face.

"Well done. Boys! Why don't you welcome our very first Lost Girl!" he shouted. Immediately the air was filled with cheers, some of approval and others shouting profanity. He leaned in towards Mordred, but amongst the ruckus I could only see him mouth words.

"I told you...that girl is strange," Felix mumbled beside me. I smiled.

"She has a name."

"...And why should I care?"

"Because it isn't just some random name. it's a name you should remember-"

(Mordred's P.O.V.)

Pan leaned in, his expression stone cold. "Welcome to Neverland. But remember this: next time you act like you did today, I will put you down," he growled, baring his teeth like a dog. I smiled at him, giggling and poking his teeth.

"Hehe, your teeth are really white!" He recoiled, looking a bit confused. "See you later, D.S.!" I waved and went to join Scottie and Fefie. "Hey, guys! Oops, sorry Scottie, were you saying something?"

"Nope, nothing. Well done, Mordred," he responded quickly.

"Thanks. Were you worried? I saw you reach for your knife, would you really have done something?" I asked. His eyes widened.

"Of course I would have!" he exclaimed. My gaze hardened.

"Well, don't. I appreciate the thought, but there's no point in us both getting killed, Scott," I said. Fefie stared at me.

"...That's what I said."

"Is it? I suppose that makes sense, but why would you care about Scottie's fate? You don't seem to care much at all for anything or anyone but Pan."

"...Pan tends to get in a bad mood when he's betrayed," Fefie stated flatly. I snickered.

"Yup, he seems like the type. But that's not very logical, since he's always going to be betrayed no matter what he does. He's going to have to figure out how to deal with it; he might have everyone where he wants them, but that doesn't mean they won't do something of their own free will that messes with his plans." Fefie stared at me again and all was silent until he resurrected the conversation two minutes later.

"...Double negative."

"What?" I asked.

"You used a double negative. You can only use 'no' once in a sentence."

"Oh, you're right..." and just like that, the discussion died again. Five minutes later, he spoke.

"So what's your name?...Your full name, I mean," Fefie asked, although it didn't seem as if he cared. I laughed.

"Mordred Secret."

"...Is that your real name?"

"No. My real name is unimportant, because you'll never hear anyone refer to me using that name. I am Mordred Secret, and there is no other name to describe me. Nice to meet you, Felix." With that, I smiled and pulled out a plastic bag. "Now who wants cookies?"

(Pan's P.O.V.)

After the Mordred girl left to join Felix and Scott, I grabbed an apple and sat back down, tossing it in the air and catching it as I thought. This whole experience was new. Someone-not even a boy, but a girl-had come to Neverland simply to find their friend? Not to mention this someone knew what they were getting into. And even though that prospect was surprising enough, what was even more shocking was that the girl not only knew when to catch me off guard, but she also knew that she could get killed.

Or did she? Either way, it didn't matter; this is my Neverland, and if she wants to stay here alive then she'll need to learn how to follow my orders. I grinned to myself. Training a little brat like her would be fun.


	4. Chapter 3 - Breakfast

RECAP:

"So what's your name?...Your full name, I mean," Fefie asked, although it didn't seem as if he cared. I laughed.

"Mordred Secret."

"...Is that your real name?"

"No. My real name is unimportant, because you'll never hear anyone refer to me using that name. I am Mordred Secret, and there is no other name to describe me. Nice to meet you, Felix."

(Pan's P.O.V.)

After the Mordred girl left to join Felix and Scott, I grabbed an apple and sat back down, tossing it in the air and catching it as I thought. This whole experience was new. Someone-not even a boy, but a girl-had come to Neverland simply to find their friend? Not to mention this someone knew what they were getting into. And even though that prospect was surprising enough, what was even more shocking was that the girl not only knew when to catch me off guard, but she also knew that she could get killed.

Or did she? Either way, it didn't matter; this is my Neverland, and if she wants to stay here alive then she'll need to learn how to follow my orders. I grinned to myself. Training a little brat like her would be fun.

CHAPTER 3 - BREAKFAST (Mordred's P.O.V.)

Soon after sharing cookies with Fefie, Scottie, and Smittie (who had joined in our conversation about half way), Pan yelled at everyone to shut up and go to sleep. We did so, Fefie heading to one of the two tents in the camp, Smittie leaving to join his friends on the outskirts of the bivouac, and Scottie let me sleep with him and share his blanket.

It was a peaceful night, and though I didn't have any qualms about sleeping on the ground, as soon as dawn came I was up. But I was the only one up, and I had the feeling I would be for a considerable amount of time. Smiling to myself, I made sure to carefully escape Scottie's grasp (he had a habit of wrapping his arms around anything near him when he slept) without disturbing his sleep. Then I proceeded to tip-toe around camp to Fefie's tent. I slipped through the entryway and walked over to his bed, tapping lightly on his shoulder.

He instantly responded, his eyes opening half-way but not completely. "...Why...are you...in my tent?" he muttered. I beamed at him, smoothing back some of his messy hair so that it was out of his eyes.

"I'm going hunting for breakfast, Fefie, what should I hunt in particular?" I whispered. He shifted, closing his eyes like he was asleep. I giggled silently and was about to leave when he spoke again.

"...Fish..." I smiled to myself and left the tent, only to run smack into Pan.

"What were you doing in there?" he snapped, glaring at me.

"I'm going hunting, and I wanted to know if Fefie had any ideas on what to hunt," I responded calmly. He cocked his eyebrow at me when I called Felix 'Fefie.'

"First of all, _nobody_ leaves this camp without my permission. Second of all, I don't want _you_ venturing into _Felix's_ tent. Ever. Third of a-"

"So then does that mean you'd rather have me venture into _your_ tent?" I asked mischievously. Flames of fury lit up in his eyes.

"I don't want you in _anybody's_ tent!" he hissed loudly, causing some of the boys to stir in their sleep. I looked at Scottie rustling in his sleep and whacked Pan in the arm.

"Shut _up_, Pan! Do you want to wake everyone up?!" I grabbed his arm and dragged him into the forest.

"Did you just hit me?" he spat venomously.

"Yes! Yell at me if you want, but don't wake everyone else up because of it!" I snapped back.

"You hit me," he repeated, seeming as if he didn't quite believe it.

"Yes, now-" SMACK. Lights flashed in my vision as my world was sent into flips and spins. I regained my footing as I slammed unstably against a tree. After a minute the lights left, and I was crouched down on the ground glaring daggers at Pan. He laughed at me.

"Who do you think you are to hit _me_? Get out of this camp, _Lost Girl_," he barked viciously. I stood up, squared my shoulders, looked him dead in the eye, and walked away. He was making a _huge_ mistake.

(Pan's P.O.V.)

After Mordred disappeared into the forest, I smirked and walked back to camp. That ought to teach the little brat not to defy me. I sat down on one of the stumps, waiting to see when she came back. Even though I told her to leave, I also made a promise that she could stay, so if she came back it would be expected. The real question was when she would come back-how intimidated was she?

Two hours passed and there was no sign of her. So she really was just a normal girl, scared by a couple of harsh hits and words. I threw my dagger at the ground in anger. What did she think she was doing?! Making _me_ wait this long, that little brat. If she didn't show up by the time the boys got up, I was going to go out there to find her myself, and she wouldn't like that at all. This thought made me smirk and the next three hours passed while I brooded about what I'd do to her. It was about then that the boys woke up. Her friends were amongst the last few to wake, but as soon as they were awake they started asking around for her.

"Smitt, where's Mordred?"

"She went to sleep with you, didn't she? You're the one I should be asking."

"Yeah, well, I don't know either. Let's ask some of the others," Scott sighed. After about twenty minutes of doing so, they finally decided to ask me. I smirked as they walked up.

"What is it, boys?"

"Pan, do you know where Mordred went?" Smitt asked pleadingly.

"No idea. Where she goes is none of my concern," I stated coldly. The two boys waddled off, looking dejected.

(Felix's P.O.V.)

I woke up to the sound of Scott and Smitt's worried voices. "Pan, do you know where Mordred went?" Smitt asked. I grunted a bit as I dragged myself out of bed. She _still_ hadn't come back from hunting? Talk about slow.

"No idea. Where she goes is none of my concern," Pan replied. This jolted me awake. What was he talking about? He knew where _everyone_ was on the island, and nobody even leaves camp without his permission. So what did he mean by that? I exited my tent and walked up to Pan. "Ah, Felix! You're up. Take some boys out hunting for breakfast." I stared at him, a bit confused.

"...Mordred said she...would take care of breakfast," I droned. Pan's eyes narrowed.

"Well, she's missing. Get to it."

"...Missing?"

"Yes, Felix, _missing_. Take Dashawn and Ardin with you."

"...Where is she?"

"I don't know," he snapped. I stared at him until his temper faded.

"...I'll take the boys hunting and we'll also find Mordred."

"And who told you that you could go after her, huh?" Pan hissed threateningly. I nodded and called Dashawn and Ardin, but as we were departing there was a rustling in the undergrowth. Dashawn readied his bow and Ardin pulled out a knife. I stayed stationary, already knowing who it was.

"...Mordred, you're slow," I grunted. Her brunette head popped out of the foliage and she smiled at me as she stepped out of the forest, laden with an armful of rabbits, birds, and a never ending stream of fish.

"Well, I had to find the herbs to cook with, and I ran into a couple of mermaids. They were nice, except for the part when they tried to drown me. Anyways, I caught a lot of fish and rabbits...I ran into some deer, but I like deer, so I didn't kill them...They're just so pretty and calming. Then I saw some vines, and I just _had_ to pull a Tarzan...it got really awkward though 'cause a parrot started watching me...And _then..._" On and on she rambled as she dropped the massive pile of animals, "See, I wasn't sure how many of s there are..." She swung her backpack off. Scott and Smitt, who had wandered over by then, gawked at her.

"Mordred, don't tell me..." Scott started. She smiled at him, flipping the bag upside down. Out tumbled more dead animals, as well as various fruits and a load of herbs.

"Yes."

"But where's everything else you had in your backpack?!" he yelped. Her smile turned a bit bitter.

"You really..._really_ don't want to know," she stated flatly. I chuckled a bit, my lips involuntarily curling upwards. But as soon as Pan shot me a sharp look, I went back to my previous stony expression. Pan stormed up to Mordred, his eyes blazing with anger.

"Who told you to leave and go hunting?" he snarled, getting in her face about it. She threw him a confused look.

"You did, five hours ago. I believe your exact words were, 'Get out of this camp, _Lost Girl_,'" she mimicked Pan's voice, so quietly that only I, Scott, Smitt, and Pan heard her. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Her version of Pan's voice was extremely high. He just silently stared at her, eyes furious and jaw set. After a minute she poked his cheeks and gave him a hug. A _hug_. She gave Peter Pan a _hug_. All of a sudden the whole camp went silent, and everyone was staring at her openmouthed. I felt a twinge of hurt. But what was I hurt by? Pan, who was previously frozen from shock, pulled me out of my thoughts as he shoved her away.

"_What do you think you're doing?!_" he hissed. She smiled at him.

"Your angry face just looked so cute I had to give you a hug!" she exclaimed cheerily. Then she grabbed some of the animals and turned to the rest of us, "Now, who wants to help me cook breakfast?"

[By the way, I don't own Once Upon A Time. Just in case some person thought I did. .-. And also...this was an extremely awkward chapter for me to write, I don't know why. ^^; Anyways, thanks for reading! Next update should be either late tonight or tomorrow. :3 - CaptainSquishy]


	5. Chapter 4 - The Pirate Game

RECAP:

After a minute she poked his cheeks and gave him a hug. A _hug_. She gave Peter Pan a _hug_. All of a sudden the whole camp went silent, and everyone was staring at her openmouthed. I felt a twinge of hurt. But what was I hurt by? Pan, who was previously frozen from shock, pulled me out of my thoughts as he shoved her away.

"_What do you think you're doing?!_" he hissed. She smiled at him.

"Your angry face just looked so cute I had to give you a hug!" she exclaimed cheerily. Then she grabbed some of the animals and turned to the rest of us, "Now, who wants to help me cook breakfast?"

CHAPTER 4 - THE PIRATE GAME (Pan's P.O.V.)

I stood motionless as she walked of. That...what...huh? Did she just..._hug me_? I heard Felix walk up behind me. "Pan?" he asked. His voice sounded weird...like his feelings had been hurt.

"What do you want, Felix?" I growled. He seemed to hesitate.

"...Well...you...ah..."

"Out with it!" I snapped.

"...You just got hugged...by a girl..."

"_And_?" I hissed menacingly.

"...Nothing," he sighed. His footsteps seemed to echo as he walked away. I stood there, awkwardly facing the forest as I tried to figure out what my next move should be. After a moment of indecision, I snarled in frustration and kicked the tree that was closest. I had run into a problem. A _huge_, bloody problem. And it had a name. Oh, my problems always had names. And this one was named Mordred.

But...I didn't want to get rid of her. _Why_ couldn't I bring myself to kill her?! My eyes narrowed as I racked my brain for clues to this mystery. What I didn't notice was the faint pink dust on my cheeks. I also didn't notice Felix watching me from across the camp, his eyes filled with thoughts as he found his own problem.

And little did I know that he had the same problem as me. The problem with a name...the problem named _Mordred_.

(Mordred's P.O.V.)

I grabbed an armful of dead animals, herbs, and fruit, leaving Pan stunned. Skipping over to Scottie, I smiled at him. "Miss me?" He grinned and shook his head.

"Mordred, you're amazing."

"How so?" I asked, confused as to why he was suddenly complimenting me.

"You just hugged _Peter Pan_."

"...It's not my fault his angry face is cute..." I grumbled, almost certain that I looked like a kid being reprimanded by the teacher. Scottie laughed.

"I will never understand a girl's definition of cute. Pan's scary when he's mad, Mordred, and your response was to give him a hug! It's amazing...and psychopathic." He frowned as I stepped closer, a serious expression on my face. "What's wrong?"

"Scott, if you thought that was crazy, you should see what I'll do to anyone that hurts you or any of my other friends," I whispered, my face inches from his. Quickly stepping back and holding up the dead critters in my arms, I flashed him a smile. "Help me skin these?" He nodded and took a couple of rabbits from my bundle. We sat down and busied ourselves with ripping flesh, Smittie bringing his friends over to help us.

Finally we gutted and cleaned the bodies before shish-kabobing them and sticking them over the flames of the fire in the center of camp. I sprinkled various spices and squeezed lemon juice over the meat. Once it was done cooking, we set out to eat.

Soon every Lost Boy was chomping rich, savory flesh just barely tinted black. Scottie, Smittie, Fefie, and I all sat down in the same place as we had the night before, all of us making small talk except the hooded blond. "Fefie, what's wrong?" I asked after twenty minutes of his silence.

"...Why did you hug Pan?" he stated upfront. We all stopped before bursting out laughing. I pretended to wipe tears from my eyes.

"_That's_ what's kept you quiet this whole time? A _hug_? What, are you jealous that I got to hug him and you didn't? Well, you shouldn't be...I mean, he's kinda short-"

"I'm five nine, _how_ is that short?" a new voice hissed. We all turned around to see an annoyed Peter Pan towering over our heads. "Or do you consider anyone shorter than you a 'shortie?'" he said sourly. I grinned at him.

"Well, Scottie's not a shortie...Smittie's not a shortie...Fefie's not a shortie...nope, it's just you." His gaze darkened for a minute before a sinister smirk lit up his features.

"Let's play a game, Mordred. There are pirates docked just south of Mermaid Lagoon. If you defeat one of them and bring back their head, then-"

"I do not kill."

"_What_?" he frowned at my sudden outburst.

"Sorry to disappoint you, D.S., but I don't kill. I never have, and probably never will," I told him flatly. He stared at me.

"Fine, then. You can take Felix with you. He, at least, will kill in your place. But if you're not back by nightfall, you lose the game. And the consequences," he leaned in closer to me, "will be severe." I glared at him, then smiled.

"Sounds fun, Shortie."

"It'll be even more fun for me when you fail, little Stalker." I ignored him, turning back to my friends. I could sense him behind me, his gaze burning holes in my head as he frowned at me.

"Fefie, let's head out in about twenty," I suggested. The blond nodded and stood up, sauntering off to get his pike. I rose to my feet as well, heading over to where my backpack sat. I heard Pan's footsteps behind me, but I avoided looking behind me and knelt down, focusing on putting my supplies back into my bag.

"That's it?" he asked, seeming confused. I spun around to look up at him.

"What's what?" He paused.

"No...whining? No complaining? No excuses? It's just never fun toying with you!" I giggled and removed my knives from my boots, placing them in the center pouch.

"Yet you still want to play? You're the one that's no fun, Peter Pan. Only a sick man plays with a fool that bores him. And I daresay that you're being a sick man right now."

"Am I?" he growled threateningly, glaring at me. I rolled my eyes, half-smirking as I poked his eyebrow.

"Of course you are," I sighed. We were silent for several minutes as I packed my bag. But it was an awkward silence-well, for him. He kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other with his arms crossed and an odd expression donning his face. Finally, as I was finishing packing, he spoke again.

"So...if you filled your backpack with food...where did you put the stuff that was previously _in_ there? Because I think-"

"Shut up," I hissed, covering my mouth as soon as I realized I had spoken. But he heard me, and he smirked like the devil he was.

"Ah, I see I struck a chord there. Where could you possibly hide your knives? In your...pocket?" he swiftly walked up behind me and jammed his hands in my pockets, removing them as he found nothing. "...No, obviously not. _Maybe_...your boots?" he shoved his hands in my boots. "...No, apparently you didn't hide them there, either. But, wait, I know! Where do girls _always_ hide things? There's no other place, is there? No other place than the shirt." As he reached out his hand, I slapped it away.

"See what I mean, Pan? You're a sick man...a very, _very_ sick man. Is this why you only have Lost Boys? Because all the girls fled from sexual harassment?" I taunted.

"You're here, aren't you-"

"Ahem...hem, hem, hm..." We both spun around to see Fefie standing there, pretending to cough into his fist. "Mordred. We need to go." He glanced at Pan. "If...that's alright with you." Pan seemed to realize what Fefie was thinking and he jumped back a bit.

"No...no, that's fine...Why are you standing there? Go!" he snapped, shoving me toward Fefie. We stared at him, stared at eachother, and then turned and walked of, our steps awkward and unnatural but in sync. We ventured into the forest, off to find the pirates. I smiled. Pan truly no idea just how _much_ fun I would be having.

[Okay...now Mordred's feeling out of character. Agh...I'm gonna have to sit on this one for a while...help me out here? T^T Well, please review! ^^ Thank you for reading! :D -CaptainSquishy]


	6. Chapter 5 PART 1 - Cliff Hanger

RECAP:

"So...if you filled your backpack with food...where did you put the stuff that was previously _in_ there? Because I think-"

"Shut up," I hissed, covering my mouth as soon as I realized I had spoken. But he heard me, and he smirked like the devil he was.

"Ah, I see I struck a chord there. Where could you possibly hide your knives? In your...pocket?" he swiftly walked up behind me and jammed his hands in my pockets, removing them as he found nothing. "...No, obviously not. _Maybe_...your boots?" he shoved his hands in my boots. "...No, apparently you didn't hide them there, either. But, wait, I know! Where do girls _always_ hide things? There's no other place, is there? No other place than the shirt." As he reached out his hand, I slapped it away.

"See what I mean, Pan? You're a sick man...a very, _very_ sick man. Is this why you only have Lost Boys? Because all the girls fled from sexual harassment?" I taunted.

"You're here, aren't you-"

"Ahem...hem, hem, hm..." We both spun around to see Fefie standing there, pretending to cough into his fist. "Mordred. We need to go." He glanced at Pan. "If...that's alright with you." Pan seemed to realize what Fefie was thinking and he jumped back a bit.

"No...no, that's fine...Why are you standing there? Go!" he snapped, shoving me toward Fefie. We stared at him, stared at eachother, and then turned and walked off, our steps awkward and unnatural but in sync. We ventured into the forest, off to find the pirates. I smiled. Pan truly no idea just how _much_ fun I would be having.

CHAPTER 5 PART 1- CLIFF HANGER (Felix's P.O.V.)

Although I'd like to say otherwise, the scene I walked in on happened to be extremely awkward. Mordred seemed fine though (she was singing some foreign some foreign song about what foxes say) as we walked through the forest. After she finished that weird song, she turned to me.

"Do you know that song?" she asked. I stared at her.

"...How old do you think I am? Because I'll give you a hint: I'm not Pan's right hand man because I'm the newest of the Lost Boys."

"Well, you look like a two thousand year old man, but I'm pretty sure you haven't been sitting in a cave waiting for Arthur all this time, have you?" she laughed as if it was a funny reference to something.

"...?"

"Y'know what, nevermind. How long until we get there?"

"...We should be entering the beach right...about...now," I said, pushing through the undergrowth to reveal a mix of white and blue with a big brown dot separating the two.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing to it. I glared at her in annoyance.

"That would be our _target_."

"Well, then where's the dog? Every Target has a dog." I stared at her.

"_What_ are you talking about?"

"Uh, Target, duh. What are _you_ talking about?" I pointed at the ship in the near distance.

"The ship. Our target."

"Oh, _that_ kind of target..." I glanced at her, confused, as I made my way down the sharp slope in an attempt to get to the beach. Halfway down the decline, I stopped and turned to her.

"It's too steep, we're going to have to circle around to find another entry to the beach." I told her, searching my brain for another path to the ship that wouldn't take all day.

"Too late!" she yelled. I barely had time to turn around before I saw her rolling down the cliff. And in my stunned haze, I didn't think about moving. Hence, she bowled straight into me, sending us both toppling over the edge. A few pebbles hit my face and dirt filled my mouth as we tumbled down, but other than that I was surprisingly unscathed. It was only until we reached the bottom that I realized why.

My back slammed against the earth, Mordred laying on top of me. "...Get up, you clumsy twit. We haven't even gotten to the ship yet-Mordred?" No response. I nudged her with my shoulder. Still no response. Panic arose-though I couldn't tell why-as I quickly rolled her off of me. "Mordred? Mordred, can you hear me?" Nothing. I took in her appearance.

She was bloodied and beaten, scratches on her face from protecting me. Why would she do that? Even if our fast descent was her fault, there was no reason for her to guard me. "Mordred, you have to get up...Pan's going to kill you if we come back empty handed..." I shook her hard. "_Mordred_. Wake up!" I hissed, but I'd have been better off talking to the ground beneath her. After slapping her several times to see that she was out cold and would be waking up no time soon. "...Fine. You protected me, now I'll protect you," I muttered, standing up and finding my pike before walking towards the ship. At least now I had rid myself of the extra weight.

Little did I know that mere minutes later, the sand-disturbed by an particular occupant with umber hair-would free itself of its burden, the body that lay on it long gone. Or that a double set of footprints would soon trail down the beach, one more recent than the other.

[Dun...dun...dun. Okay, not really. This is a lame kind of foreshadowing...I mean, we all could've guessed that our little protagonist here would never miss out on the fun, right? I'M SO SORRY IT'S LAME AND SHORT! T^T I didn't manage to find time because I was helping my brother with school work all morn and then we had to go visit my grandparents. But I figured it'd be better to have a short update than none at all, so I decided to upload the part I did yesterday. Which means two updates tomorrow, and I promise I'll make it up to you. My word is my bond~ So expect a 5,000 word chapter sometime soon. :3 -CaptainSquishy]


	7. Chapter 5 Part 2 - The Melody of

RECAP:

My back slammed against the earth, Mordred laying on top of me. "...Get up, you clumsy twit. We haven't even gotten to the ship yet-Mordred?" No response. I nudged her with my shoulder. Still no response. Panic arose-though I couldn't tell why-as I quickly rolled her off of me. "Mordred? Mordred, can you hear me?" Nothing. I took in her appearance.

She was bloodied and beaten, scratches on her face from protecting me. Why would she do that? Even if our fast descent was her fault, there was no reason for her to guard me. "Mordred, you have to get up...Pan's going to kill you if we come back empty handed..." I shook her hard. "_Mordred_. Wake up!" I hissed, but I'd have been better off talking to the ground beneath her. After slapping her several times to see that she was out cold and would be waking up no time soon. "...Fine. You protected me, now I'll protect you," I muttered, standing up and finding my pike before walking towards the ship. At least now I had rid myself of the extra weight.

Little did I know that mere minutes later, the sand-disturbed by an particular occupant with umber hair-would free itself of its burden, the body that lay on it long gone. Or that a double set of footprints would soon trail down the beach, one more recent than the other.

CHAPTER 5 PART 2 - THE MELODY OF GRANDPA'S AND PIRATES (Felix's P.O.V.)

I had managed to sneak onto the ship, but that wasn't the hard part. The hard part was cornering, killing, and beheading one of the pirates without alerting anyone else on the ship to the fact that a single drop of blood was spilled. Crouching behind a crate in the lower deck of the ship, I stared at the staircase leading to the hull. That was when the point of a blade dug into my back.

"Up you go, lad. Can't have Pan's little men runnin' about under our noses, now, can we?" I raised my hands in surrender, dropping my weapon and swearing under my breath as he led me upstairs, straight into the center of the pirate's infestation. Hook walked up to me as his men crowded around us, a victorious smirk lighting up his features.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Pan's favorite Lost Boy. What exactly do you think you're doing on my ship?"

"...I came to ask...why you're here, Killian."

"That's not really what you're here for?" he responded, seeming unsure and confused at why I would come alone.

"...It is," I said flatly, looking him dead in the eye.

"I assume Pan is going to want you back?"

"...If I'm not back by sunset, he will come. So you'd best-"

"If _we_ aren't back by sunset, he will come!" We all whirled around to see Mordred, not in any better shape, standing on the plank. She was grinning like always, light dancing in her eyes.

"...Who's the girl?" Killian asked me, pointing his sword at my throat.

"She's no one-"

"My name is Mordred. I'm new to the family," she inclined her head as she spoke. He inclined his as well.

"And what is your business on my ship?" he asked her dangerously, the point of his sword barely cutting into the flesh of my neck. She stopped smiling.

"I am supposed to kill one of your men."

"Supposed to?" he interrogated, his brow creasing as he thought.

"I do not want to. I shall not kill. I am no murderer," she stated. He snorted, and a few of the pirates chuckled.

"One of Pan's minions doesn't kill? Sorry, girl, but that doesn't seem likely."

"I protect. That is why I'm here in Neverland in the first place. I'm not lost; I was never lost. I came to protect my friend, to become his shield. And I will also protect those who ask it of me. But while I protect, I won't kill. So your safety is guaranteed if the threat is coming from me. Haha, that rhymes! See how awesome I am? I could do a freestyle rap!" she proceeded to giggle, an act at which I rolled my eyes. This idiot. Atleast I knew her wounds weren't affecting her air-headed personality. Killian looked at her with humor.

"You'd leave us alone, ignoring Pan's orders, simply because we asked you to?"

"Yep. Listen carefully, Mr. Jones. I am always going to be the neutral party. I'll protect people, no matter who they are or what side they pull for. There is no way I'm going to harm those who have yet to harm me or my wards. Just ask me to go, and I'll take him and leave you with no weapons raised." She gestured towards me.

"And if we don't?" Hook asked, smirking.

"Then I will take him and leave. The only difference is, one version you'll be unharmed, and the other version you might not wake up for several days. It's your choice, sir. You and your men," she offered, staring him dead in the eye. His smirk turned into a twisted smile.

"I do so hate to sound like Pan, but let's play," he snarled. She smiled at him and started singing another stupid song, but this time it was about being her own grandpa.

"My pleasure, dear Captain," Mordred jumped down from the plank and faced the pirates. "Now many, many years ago when I was twenty three I was married to a widow who was pretty as could be..." she pulled a rope out of her backpack, slid underneath the first pirates to reach her, and whipped it around their feet, intertwining with their shoelaces as she slipped between the men. After her rope ran out in her hands, she stood up, tied the end to a pole, and nodded before leaving the mess of pirates on the deck behind her and stepping forward to face the new wave.

"This widow had a grown-up daughter who had hair of red. My father fell in love with her and soon the two were wed..." Mordred snatched her flashlight out of her backpack, bonking the first two over the head. Then she held her index finger up. "Time out." All the pirates stopped, even those who were rubbing their heads or thrashing about on the floor as they tried to escape the rope. "My shoe is untied," she informed them.

"Ah..." they all said, nodding vigorously at eachother as she bent to tie her shoe. I gawked at them. _What? _

"Y'know, untied shoelaces are huge hazards in fights," she lectured as she stood up. "All of you should check them right now," Mordred ordered. Immediately all the criminals bent to examine their own shoes. Hook and I just stood there, dumbstruck. Then we turned to eachother and shrugged before yelling.

"Time in!" Almost a second later they all burst back into combat, Mordred punching and kicking and sticking little smiley faces on people's eyelids. "Mordred, hurry up," I hissed at her. She grinned up at me, disposing of several more men by rolling a barrel of beer into them.

"Geez, Fefie, you're so _impatient_," she teased. By now all of the thugs were down, except for Killian and one other. The last man rushed towards her, sword raised in the air as well as his battle cry. A few seconds before he made contact, she stepped to the side and he proceeded to run off the edge of the ship. All three of us stared after him before turning to eachother. "Okay. That was weird."

"No, that was Smee. You're the weird one, seeing how you just took down an entire crew as well as making them listen to you. Why are you really here, Mordred?" Hook asked her, squinting at the hazel-haired foreigner.

"Pan told me to take Fefie and retrieve the head of one of your men. And so I'm going to do just that," she said darkly stepping towards Killian. He shifted backwards a bit, not sure whether he should keep his blade at my neck or switch it to the approaching Mordred.

"I thought you said you don't kill!" he panicked, flinching as she got closer.

"What? What are you talking about?" she asked, dumbfounded, as she removed a piece of paper and a pen from her backpack. "Now, don't move. I'm a very good artist so long as I can get a good view of your face." She began drawing, with both Killian and I watching her, wide-eyed. "Okay, done," she cheered after about ten minutes, smiling as if she was satisfied. "Thank you, Mr. Jones!" she beamed, shoving the paper back into her pack and grabbing my hand as we exited the ship. Halfway up the beach, she began singing that stupid song again. "This made my dad my son-in-law and changed my very life, for my daughter was my mother 'cause she was my father's wife-"

"...Mordred, don't tell me you're going to sing that annoying song _all_ the way back to camp?" I asked. She smiled at me.

"Of course I am! Silence may be golden, but it's also boring!"

"Ugh..." I groaned. It was going to be a long trip back.

[How's that for comedy! :D Muahahahaha-*cough, cough.* Okay...so I need to work on my evil laugh. Well, the dishes are calling, so I'll have to write the next chapter later tonight! Hope you enjoyed! (And that this helps make up for the short and sucky chapter yesterday!) :D -Captain Squishy]


	8. Chapter 6 - Anger and Worry

RECAP:

"Pan told me to take Fefie and retrieve the head of one of your men. And so I'm going to do just that," she said darkly stepping towards Killian. He shifted backwards a bit, not sure whether he should keep his blade at my neck or switch it to the approaching Mordred.

"I thought you said you don't kill!" he panicked, flinching as she got closer.

"What? What are you talking about?" she asked, dumbfounded, as she removed a piece of paper and a pen from her backpack. "Now, don't move. I'm a very good artist so long as I can get a good view of your face." She began drawing, with both Killian and I watching her, wide-eyed. "Okay, done," she cheered after about ten minutes, smiling as if she was satisfied. "Thank you, Mr. Jones!" she beamed, shoving the paper back into her pack and grabbing my hand as we exited the ship. Halfway up the beach, she began singing that stupid song again. "This made my dad my son-in-law and changed my very life, for my daughter was my mother 'cause she was my father's wife-"

"...Mordred, don't tell me you're going to sing that annoying song _all_ the way back to camp?" I asked. She smiled at me.

"Of course I am! Silence may be golden, but it's also boring!"

"Ugh..." I groaned. It was going to be a long trip back.

CHAPTER 6 - ANGER AND WORRY (Pan's P.O.V.)

I smirked as the sun began its descent, trying to come up with a punishment fit enough for the little brat. Scott and Smitt had been silent the whole time, just sitting there as they ate their dinner. But now, as the sun was disappearing, Smitt opened his mouth and I leaned in to listen.

"She's not going to make it back in time, is she?" he asked. Scott was still for a moment, staring at the ground before shaking his head. "Will...will she make it back at all?" I frowned at that thought and Scott froze. A few minutes later, when the blonde boy still hadn't responded, Smitt spoke again. "Scott? Scott?" All of a sudden he looked up, gawking at something entering the camp with a half smile on his face.

"_Mordred_..." he breathed, leaping up and rushing over to the edge of the camp with Smitt on his tail. I whirled around to see a particular brunette and a hooded blonde exiting the forest. Rising to meet them, I noticed the absence of a bloody head.

"Hello again, D.S. What's for dinner-" All of a sudden Scott bowled into her, and Smitt into him, until all three slammed into Felix. I glanced down at them on the ground, my right hand man at the bottom of the pile. I smirked at them.

"Where's my head?" I asked. She beamed at me, though Felix shifted a bit with an odd expression on his face.

"Backpack," she smiled. "I think I did a good job, if I do say so myself." I cocked an eyebrow at her.

"_You_ did a good job? You said you don't kill."

"I don't."

"So how could _you_ do a good job?"

"Backpack," was her only response. I narrowed my eyes at her slightly, kneeling down and shoving Smitt off to find the bag. I grabbed the zipper and pulled it, opening the hatch wide enough that a sheet of paper fell out.

"What is this?" I asked, unrolling it. Her smile widened as I saw a drawing of Hook's head. "Again I ask," I tried to keep my calm, but it just wasn't working. She laughed.

"You told me to bring you the head of one of the pirates. I did so, as you can see." I glared at her. Okay, so the brat knew how the play the game. Good to know. Then I turned to Felix.

"And why didn't _you_ slay one of the men?" I hissed furiously, angry that I had been outsmarted. Felix looked up at me, confusion flashing in his eyes before disappearing again.

"...I...don't...know...? It was...a weird experience." I stared at him.

"_What?_"

"Yeah, I agree. It was a bit weird. I mean, Smee ran off the side of the ship-" Mordred started.

"That part was entirely your fault, and that wasn't even the weirdest bit. What was truly weird was the fact that not only did _you_ save _me_, but you also took out the entire crew," he said heatedly, cutting her off. She rolled her eyes and poked his scar.

"I _did_ save you, didn't I? Where's my thank-you, then, hmm?" she teased. He growled a bit.

"You're not going to get one-"

"Neither of you are answering my questions. What is _this_," I held up the paper, "and where's my _head_?" Mordred giggled.

"Well, the head is generally attached to the neck, so your head is riiiiiiiiiiiiight," she reach up towards me and jabbed me in the forehead, "there." I flushed; in anger or something else, I wasn't sure. But I did know that she needed to stop touching me. I flicked her hand away and left the four lying there on the ground. There was no way to deal with her and her stupid smile, especially not when she was being playful.

Several minutes later the group had settled down in their normal spot, chatting as they ate. I listened and watched, not noticing as my ears perked up to hear better. The first to talk was Smitt. "Mordred, we thought you weren't coming back!"

"Of course I came back!" she replied indignantly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Why wouldn't I?" Scott was the first to respond.

"Hook could've used you as a hostage to get off the island," he muttered, so quiet I could barely hear him. She stared at him with wide eyes.

"Oh, Scottie, I don't think he'd do that. He's actually a pretty nice guy," she smiled, looking at the sky in a thoughtful haze, "It was surprising, really. Almost makes me wonder if we're the bad guys and not the pirates, for once."

"But Mordred, you're never a bad guy. Ever since I could remember, you've always been...neutral," Scott protested. Felix leaped into the conversation.

"...That's what she said on the ship. Something about...protecting wards? What was that about, exactly?" he asked, though it sounded more like an order than a request. She laughed and smiled, Scott grinning into his rabbit leg.

"She is so, _so_ neutral. _Extremely_ neutral. It's shocking, really, it is." He laughed, and she nudged him with her shoulder. I narrowed my eyes at the boy, my body tensing. Why were they so close? Sure, she had followed him to Neverland, but that shouldn't have brought them this close together. I would have to as the kid about that, about his relationship with her. But wait-why should I care about her relationship with other Lost Boys? Yet he wasn't just a Lost Boy to her...no, he was the one she came after. Surely she thought of him as more than a friend-. I stopped myself. So what? It's not like it matters, who she likes and doesn't like. Because in the end she's just going to be left with me, the sole monarch of this island.

She's always going to be left with me; and only me. I smirked as I watched the group. Mordred may have won the first game, but I was going to win the second. And this time, I wouldn't fail.

[So...yeah. .-. And before someone wonders about this, Pan doesn't know his feelings. Well, if there are any. *Wink, wink* Okay, that failed. Well, hope you enjoyed reading! Next update's tomorrow as usual! :D -CaptainSquishy]


	9. Inconvenient Announcement

Sorry, you guys, but this isn't an update! ; My mom decided a surprise trip to my Grandpa's house to visit would be perfect for New Year's, so I'm stuck there. I'm not going to likely have any access to any electronics, but if I do, I'll update! ^^ We'll be there till Friday. Sorry for the inconvenience! T^T -CaptainSquishy


	10. Chapter 7 - Cleaning Up Ashes

RECAP:

"She is so, _so_ neutral. _Extremely_ neutral. It's shocking, really, it is." He laughed, and she nudged him with her shoulder. I narrowed my eyes at the boy, my body tensing. Why were they so close? Sure, she had followed him to Neverland, but that shouldn't have brought them this close together. I would have to ask the kid about that, about his relationship with her. But wait-why should I care about her relationship with other Lost Boys? Yet he wasn't just a Lost Boy to her...no, he was the one she came after. Surely she thought of him as more than a friend-. I stopped myself. So what? It's not like it matters, who she likes and doesn't like. Because in the end she's just going to be left with me, the sole monarch of this island.

She's always going to be left with me; and only me. I smirked as I watched the group. Mordred may have won the first game, but I was going to win the second. And this time, I wouldn't fail.

CHAPTER 7 - CLEANING UP ASHES AND BROKEN HEARTS (Mordred's P.O.V.)

I woke up early just like the day before, but this time I decided to lay there. Scottie had his arms wrapped around me again and was snoring loudly in my ear. I giggled a little as I wondered what the Lost Boys' original reaction to his sleeping habits was. Hearing some of the boys rustle, I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Suddenly someone tapped on my shoulder. I smiled. "You're not Scottie. Who is it?" I asked teasingly, though I already had a hunch on who it was. "I guess...Fefie?" I turned to see him hovering in his cloak-ness. He stared down at me.

"...Let's go hunting," he suggested, standing there while shifting awkwardly. My eyes lit up and he knew it.

"Sweet!" I whispered excitedly, nudging Scottie, "Scottie, wake up, we're going hunting!"

"...Actually, I meant just me and you-"  
"Y'all're going hunting? Awesome, let's go!" another Lost Boy near us, Nokireo (Know-k-ear-ee-o) breathed. Scottie stopped snoring and came to his senses.

"I'll go get Smitt," he offered. I nodded, and he stumbled off through the camp, tripping on several bodies as he went. These bodies woke up and started quietly asking questions and then decided to join our party once Scottie informed them. By the time we left there was a group of about a dozen ready to go. I turned to Fefie.

"Alright, let's go!" and walked off into the forest with the other boys tailing me. Fefie stood there at the edge of camp for a minute, contemplating what just happened, before following suit. Once all the boys were in the forest, I ran back to camp, poking my head through the dense foliage. "Oh, D.S., I forgot to ask if you wanted to come with us," I called, watching his tent for movement. A moment later he poked his own head through his tent flap, hissing at me angrily.

"No!" I smiled and waved.

"Kay then, we'll be back in a couple of hours," I cheered, returning to my crew. As we hunted, I constantly found myself next to Fefie as we shot down bird after bird, stabbed fish after fish. I pulled back the string of my bow, squinting slightly as I tried to aim at a sparrow perched on a high branch. I felt Fefie's presence behind me, causing me to smile a bit. "I like you," I said confidently, letting the arrow fly. It hit the fowl square in the chest, sending it plummeting to its death with a loud squawk. Then I turned to see him standing there, mouth half open. I smiled dully at him, walking over to pick up the corpse. As I passed him I whispered in his ear, "But I know you don't like me." Retreating towards camp, I spoke loudly for all to hear, "You guys, let's head back! We may have had a field day catching our prey, but getting around to skinning and cooking it is the tricky bit." With that, I left Fefie standing there-a shocked but slightly horrified expression on his face. And that was how I knew that he really didn't like me; yet for some reason the rejection (or lack thereof) didn't hurt.

The fact that it didn't hurt was how I knew I didn't truly like him, either. I smiled as I made the trek back to camp, remembering something my mom had told me long ago. _"Love is merely infatuation mixed with commitment. Don't make the mistake of thinking it's anything more than that." _

(SCOTTIE'S P.O.V.)

I watched Mordred closely as we traveled back to the HQ. For some reason she seemed...empty? But this was Mordred, who was always bustling with positive energy. I pressed nearer, my eyes scouring hers for some sign as to why she was like this. It was almost as if she had realized something. Something she had known deep down inside but had never wanted to admit. I was in the midst of contemplating what could have upset her like this when we broke through the trees to see the rest of the Lost Boys and Pan running about. All of a sudden her previously dull aura burst into her usual flames of excitement and pleasure.

"Who wants to help me clean out the fire pit?" she asked brightly, beaming at the world. But I wasn't buying that.

"I will!" I offered. She stared at me with a dorky grin on her face, as if it had been decided beforehand that I would help her. Which, I suppose, was true. Because I'd rather help Mordred than anyone else. And I knew that fact was shone clearly on my face. The other boys went to skin and cleanse the animals and we made our way to the pit. I brushed my shoulder against her own as we knelt down, turning my head to her. "What's wrong?" I whispered. She smiled dazedly.

"_'Love is merely infatuation mixed with commitment. Don't make the mistake of thinking it's anything more than that,'_" she quoted as she removed last night's ashes from the bottom. I tried to laugh, but failed. Resting my hand on her shoulder, I sighed.

"But you want a fairytale love story, don't you?" I asked sympathetically. She nodded weakly.

"I don't actually even really care about love itself...I just don't want to be lonely. There are so, _so_ many people out there that have _no one_ but themselves...I don't want that. Scottie, don't let me be like that," she pleaded. I smiled sadly.

"I won't. I promise." Then I retraced the path of the conversation. "Wait-not like _that_, right?" She looked up in alarm.

"_No_, not like _that_, Scottie! I take pride in my interest in older guys," she said with mock pride, turning up her nose at me before bursting out laughing. I matched her laughter and we continued like that until Nokireo and Smitt walked over with questioning gleams in there eyes.

"So, uh, what's so funny, ya'll?" She smiled as Nokireo shuffled awkwardly, looking at the ground and tugging on the flaps of his eskimo hat. As I began wondering why he wore that hat, I realized that I actually didn't know what either of the boys in front of me looked like. Tuning out the background noise, I focused on their appearances. Smitt was short, and I mean really short. As in, 4'7" tops. He had bright red hair that stuck straight up from his head and his features were oddly girly-long eyelashes, thin eyebrows, and big opal eyes.

Nokireo was a bit different, because while he was obviously an American southerner, he wore a hat fitting only for a northerner. Like he was from Alaska or something. He had dark chocolate hair and matching eyes, as well as freckles resting in a spread out pattern across his face. He was relatively my height-putting him around Pan's stature-but his thick fur boots made him seem closer to Felix's altitude.

"Just something," Mordred's shaking voice brought me out of my thoughts. I whirled to face her, thinking she was crying, only to see that she was trying to keep from laughing. Smitt pouted and crossed his arms, Nokireo mimicking him silently. Mordred snickered and poked their faces. They held firm for a manner of seconds before their grins broke out. "Maybe if you guys help us clean out the pit we'll tell you," she negotiated deviously. Nokireo snorted, tossing his head back in silent laughter in a way that only suited him.

"_Maybe_?" he smirked. Mordred copied his expression.

"Maybe," she trilled tauntingly. The two rolled their eyes playfully and sat down to join us. I looked around camp once more before turning back to work on removing ashes, vaguely perceiving Felix's focus on Mordred. That was when it clicked: Mordred liked _Felix_. I frowned as we finished cleaning, watching him as she called on the other Lost Boys to tell them we were ready to cook. He seemed to register me watching him, for he shifted his gaze to meet my own. It quickly became a stare down, though neither of us knew why the other was glaring. We also did not know that a particular big-eared brunette was watching us from his own corner of the camp.

[Hehe! How's that for a twist! :D I felt that I hadn't explained appearances well enough, so I added descriptions. And I'm an American southerner myself, so I just _had_ to add Nokireo into the story. XD Sorry for the update being so late, I was sleeping half the day. Yep, I owe that one to roller skating for 7 and a half hours. Bad idea. Especially since my cousin kept making me fall. And to the guest who mentioned pulling for Felix, he's definitely still in the running, don't get me wrong. :3 THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR READING MY STORY! REALLY, YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA HOW MUCH IT MEANS TO ME. 3 Love you all! - CaptainSquishy]


	11. Chapter 8 - Happy Endings

RECAP:

I looked around camp once more before turning back to work on removing ashes, vaguely perceiving Felix's focus on Mordred. That was when it clicked: Mordred liked _Felix_. I frowned as we finished cleaning, watching him as she called on the other Lost Boys to tell them we were ready to cook. He seemed to register me watching him, for he shifted his gaze to meet my own. It quickly became a stare down, though neither of us knew why the other was glaring. We also did not know that a particular big-eared brunette was watching us from his own corner of the camp.

CHAPTER 8 - HAPPY ENDINGS (Felix's P.O.V.)

There was definitely something off about her; maybe it was me. She didn't move as swift as usual, nor with her general pep. It was as if she was...lost. I felt a smile tug at the corners of my mouth. So she _did_ fit in here, even after her attempts to prove us wrong whenever we told her of it! Then my smirk of victory faded as I felt a pair of eyes observing me from across the camp. I shifted my gaze to meet my viewer, soon finding my charcoal eyes stumbled across his powdered sapphire inspection.

Scott's expression was solemn; the color drained from his face in thoughtful fury. I matched his anger, letting the charcoal burn as it was meant to do. I stood up, making my way through the encampment towards the younger male. I was almost there when an arm blocked my path. Halting but not tearing my gaze from the blonde's, I spoke to whoever was keeping me still. "What," I stated blandly, my teeth grinding in a way that suggested it wasn't a question.

"I don't know why you're stormin' over there, but if you could come an' help us with breakfast, it'd be much appreciated." I tilted my head to scowl at the boy beside me, Nokireo.

"...And _why_ should I help _you_, who happen to be so rudely interrupting me?"

"Sorry, Felix, but I was not aware that I was..._interrupting_ anything," the boy cocked at eyebrow at me, a knowing gleam in his eyes as his gaze flickered between Scott and I.

"...You weren't."

"I wasn't?"

"...No. You weren't."

"Are you _sure_? Because if I _was_, then-"

"_You weren't_." I snapped at the boy before I could stop myself. He smirked, satisfied for some odd reason, before dragging me over to where Mordred sat. He leaned towards me before shoving me down next to her, whispering in my ear.

"Talk it out." Surprised at the sudden movement, Mordred turned to me just as I turned to her, making our noses touch due to lack of distance. She recovered from the shock first, whipping her head back around to heatedly skin the rabbit she was holding.

"Thanks for helping!" she cheered, as happy as ever. I rolled my eyes. There was only one Mordred and she happened to be extremely thick to think her facade would work on me.

"No problem," I said loudly, making sure I sounded like a robot. Nobody seemed to think my voice odd, causing my to scrunch up my eyebrows in confusion. Mordred snickered a bit.

"Loud, aren't you?" she had the same knowing gleam in her eyes as Nokireo and Scott, but in her eyes the knowledge seemed so much more...melancholic. She quickly broke eye contact, tossing the now flayed rabbit and picking up another. I grabbed a fish, scraping off the scales and slime.

"...You were right," I muttered under my breath.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"You were right," I hissed. She looked at me in alarm, mouth wide open. "I don't like you. I thought I did, but I don't...Or maybe...I do and am just trying to protect my feelings?" She cocked an eyebrow at me.

"Fefie..."

"...Well, it could be-" My protest was cut off by her lips pressed against mine. Instantly I pulled away, the kiss feeling way too wrong. But she had already made her point.

"It _really_ couldn't," she smiled sadly. That was when we noticed everyone in camp staring at us. Mordred glanced around awkwardly. "Y'know, this would be much less awkward if there were crickets chirping." All the lost pairs of eyes just watched her silently, their mouths hanging slightly open. "Um, hello? Hello hello? Oh, hi D.S." I turned to face my angry leader, though his attention was not focused on me, but rather my brunette ex-crush.

"_Mor_dred, _whatdoyouthinkyou'redoing_?" he hissed with barely contained fury. She threw him a lopsided grin.

"Um, lemme guess...kissing your Lost Boy?" she inquired innocently. His face flooded with color as he grabbed her by the shirt. "Getting a little bit touchy there, aren't you, D.S.?" Then he proceeded to drag her into the forest, the rest of us staring. After several minutes of silence, the lone chirp of a cricket called out in the night.

"...Nice timing," Scott, Smitt, Nokireo, and I all sighed before the three burst out laughing and I shook my head in confusion at what had just taken place.

(Pan's P.O.V.)

I dragged the girl into the forest, trying to give off a calm vibe but failing miserably. "I don't want to _ever_ see you kissing _Felix_ again!" I snarled.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that. It was wrong."

"_Of course it was wrong for you to kiss MY Lost Boy_!" I roared, barely keeping my hands off her neck. She waved my opinion away with a flick of her hand and a shake of her head.

"No, not _that_. The kiss. It was wrong...I mean, I thought it _would_ be, but not _that_ wrong..."

"_What are you rambling about_?" I hissed. She glanced up at me, her multi-color eyes sparkling with an emotion I couldn't quite understand...was it...sorrow? "What's wrong?" I asked, surprising myself with my own concern. Apparently she was surprised, too.

"Huh?"

"...You heard me," I muttered, my cheeks stained pink for some odd reason. She laughed nervously.

"Yeah...I...I guess I did," she sighed awkwardly. Silence fell upon us, as there was nothing for me to say and she wasn't talking, until she decided she wanted to talk. "It's nothing much...just that...I thought I wasn't lost?" My gaze softened a bit as I watched her, sitting on a log as she twiddled her thumbs.

"But you are," I whispered, my voice filled with understanding. She nodded hesitantly, looking up at me with big eyes. And, wow, were they glittering. "Then, that just means you belong here...with me," her eyes widened in alarm, "and-and the other boys, of course..." At this she bobbed her head in agreement. I felt a pang of frustration. What was so wrong about being with me? Apparently she read my mind, for she spoke in answer.

"I don't like you...like, at all. Wait-not, 'like, at all' as in I like you at all, but that I don't like you...at all. As in, not even a little bit...Like, I don't like you, like, at all...even a little bit...Um, does that make sense?"

"No."

"I hate you. How about that?"

"Yes."

"Good!" she beamed. "Wait, no, not good. Why can't you just be _likeable_? I've never hated anyone before!"

"You hate me? I thought you just didn't like me!"

"Nope, sorry, I hate you."

"Gee, thanks," I smirked sarcastically. She smiled.

"No problem...at least I'm honest about it, right? That's better than some people," she shifted slightly, tensely drawing random shapes in the dirt. I narrowed my eyes.

"_Some_ people? May I ask who these people are?"

"Well, you can ask, but I'm not gonna answer," she grinned. I glared at her, and her face fell. "Seriously, D.S. Do you really think everyone likes you? You've given us a home, sure, but what kind of a home is this? We could _die_, Shortie! These boys have been here for _centuries_, but where's the...the _love_?"

"The...love?"

"Yes! Where're our happy endings?" Suddenly she stood and grabbed me by my shirt, her nose touching mine. "You're a _fairytale_, even, and where's your happy ending? Wendy _left_! I don't see _any_ love _anywhere_ on Neverland! Why do we have to live in a place like this? Tell me, tell me why! _Please_!" she begged, her eyes pleading. I shook her off coldly.

"Unfortunately, there are no happy endings." I shoved her away from me, walking back to camp. "Keep your hands off my Lost Boys, _Mordred_," I sneered as I left her there. I pushed through the trees first, only to run into Felix. "What, Felix?" I snapped. His eyebrows lifted up higher than his side-swept bangs.

"I just...um, need Mordred...yes, yes that's it," he choked out, smiling as if he was proud of himself. I rolled my eyes at him.

"What _for_?"

"Um...dinner?" I cocked an eyebrow at him. "No, no, not like eat her for dinner...we need her to cook dinner...right?"

"Right. What's your problem?"

"Um, nothing...nothing at all," he responded quietly, looking at something behind me with an odd expression on his face. I could only guess at who would make him react this way.

[Sorry it's late! was being stupid and wouldn't let me access the 'Manage Stories' button thingy. -_- So yeah, sorry about the incovenience! Oh, and I go back to school tomorrow, and since I'm trying to get into one of the top highschools in America, updates might be late. D: Sorry again... -CaptainSquishy]


	12. Chapter 9 - The Singing Falls of Emrys

***THERE IS AN ANNOUNCEMENT THINGY AT THE BOTTOM, DON'T FORGET TO READ IT! ^^***

RECAP:

"What, Felix?" I snapped. His eyebrows lifted up higher than his side-swept bangs.

"I just...um, need Mordred...yes, yes that's it," he choked out, smiling as if he was proud of himself. I rolled my eyes at him.

"What _for_?"

"Um...dinner?" I cocked an eyebrow at him. "No, no, not like eat her for dinner...we need her to cook dinner...right?"

"Right. What's your problem?"

"Um, nothing...nothing at all," he responded quietly, looking at something behind me with an odd expression on his face. I could only guess at who would make him react this way.

CHAPTER 9 - THE SINGING FALLS OF EMRYS (Mordred's P.O.V.)

Breakfast passed rather quickly after my encounter with D.S., my friends laughing about the whole thing while the Lost Boys went about in their general rowdy manner and Fefie sat a far ways away as he stared forlornly out into the distance. The atmosphere was joyous and carefree, but there was...a sound. High pitched and shrill yet wavering in its wails...like a child's scream. I stood up abruptly, staring off into the forest as I covered my ears, my eyes dark and clouded.

"...Mordred...Mordred...Mordred...Mordred? Mordred, can you hear me? Mordred?" Scottie's words penetrated my thoughts, his voice laced thick with worry.

"The screaming," I hissed, much louder than I had intended. Everyone stopped dancing around the fire and watched me as I crouched to the ground. My hands involuntarily clutched at my ears, threatening to tear them off. "Do you not hear the _screaming_?" By now D.S. had stopped sharpening his knife to look up at all the commotion with a blank expression and Fefie had chosen to gape at me, his mouth slightly open. I felt Scottie's hands resting firmly on my shoulders, but his voice was faded.

"Mordred, what screaming?" I shook my head, pursing my lips as I listened to the enchanting shrieks. "Mordred, _what_ _screaming_?" he asked, finally beginning to panic. I shook my head again, gasping with horror.

"It's so _loud_," I moaned, breathless. The next wail sent me into action, causing me to yank out of Scottie's grasp and bolt at top speed as I headed for the source of the terrible calls. I vaguely heard the Lost Boys' cries, as well as D.S.'s yells for me to get back to camp, but none were powerful enough to break through my entranced state. I ran, and I ran like a mad woman; my eyes dull and glassy in addition to their previous dark, cloudy condition.

Trees waved their hands in the wind, clutching disdainfully at my clothes in an attempt to halt my dash, hell-bent for leather. But to no avail would I listen to their creaking mewls, because it was so loud and so horrid, that nothing short of slow and painful murder could have caused it.

And here is when one would normally ask themselves: "If someone is being murdered, why can the others not hear them?" Yet I shall inform you that every woman has instincts so strong when it comes to children. And every girl has those same instincts, though they may only arise in crucial matters, such as the one before us. Especially if said girl had never heard the strained laments of children who have been wronged. Said girl, in this case, just happened to be none other than me.

So it is safe to say that common sense eluded me in this very moment as I rushed to whatever doom may await. My feet slammed against the ground in a sick rhythm and my vision blurred, but not once did I stop moving. The sound of heavy pursuit did not faze me either; I hardly recognized the Lost Boys' presence.

Finally the screams ended-as did my hasty sprint-when I entered a clearing. The grass was blue from frost, like it was frozen in time, and a thick mist coated the ground. Its tendrils of wispy azure beckoned me, coaxing my legs into movement even as they wrapped around my body in a way that could only be described as sinister. I began walking towards the center of the open field, towards a gigantic waterfall.

A cascade of icy haven fell from the dull rocks, its gentle waves of sapphire crashing softly into a pond of deep cerulean. The mist manifested here in large abundance, swimming around the serene area with ill intent so obviously shown that the alarm bells of my mind didn't even bother to ring. My steps echoed throughout the expanse and at last I felt fear sink in, thrumming through my veins faster than my quickening heartbeat.

I threw my body back, digging my nails into the ground with the force of a thousand demons. But if I had done so with so much demonic power, then the fog must have been supported by millions. My legs continued moving forward as if nothing had interrupted my stroll. This made for a very odd appearance, due to the crab-walk-like posture I was in. One could even say I was merely playing-frolicking in a way much like a child. Yet children didn't make their fingers bleed from the intensity of their struggles against an unknown force.

The cataract stood only feet away now, looming ominously above me. That was when I realized that the ill intent of the smog was nothing when compared to the monstrosity in front of me. Suddenly, the kind chime of a particular instrument reached my ears. "So I see you found the falls," I tilted my head back to see the one and only Peter Pan leaning against a tree as he played his pipe, a smirk dancing across his face. The haze hesitated in its pull, the blue tendrils seeming to pause in the presence of him. He continued to speak, unconcerned about the malicious ambition residing in the scene before him. "Well, more like they found you."

I laughed weakly, trying to hide the relief I was sure had made its way into my gaze. Any hate I had for him was sent on hiatus; personal feuds were not at the top of my list in that moment. He continued, seeming pleased with my response, "Only girls can hear the falls, you know. That's why the boys couldn't hear the...screams, you said? Actually, even I wasn't sure what you were talking about. You see, out of all the women the falls have tormented, none of them heard screams. In Tiger Lily's case, it was the battle cry of her tribe. In Tinkerbell's case, it was the angry shrieks of her fellow fairies. In Wendy's case, it was the desperate calls of her brothers. But you...you heard screams. None of them heard screams. Who was screaming?" he asked, cocking his head and furrowing his brow in a manner that suggested of his genuine curiosity.

"...Children," I whispered. His face screwed up in confusion.

"Well that doesn't make sense," he stated after a minute. The fog shifted a bit, as if to say, 'Ahem, I'm kind of in the middle of something here.' I rolled my eyes at both of them, scolding the mist for its unnecessary interruption.

"Why not?" I asked, my attention refocusing on D.S. He stared at me.

"...The falls were created to bring out the weakness in people. You see, my Lost Boys have never had any problems with it. They don't have any intellectual weaknesses because they don't care about anything but having fun and surviving. But women," he frowned as he said the word, like it troubled him, "think too much. You like to dwell on things, you like to worry. You see, the falls feed on that worry. Then they turn that worry against you, multiplied tenfold," he explained, looking bored but informing me anyway.

"What the falls do or why isn't really the question here, though. The question is, 'Why would you worry about children screaming?'" he smirked, his eyes glinting as he held my gaze. I chewed on my bottom lip, still struggling with the misty haze as I answered him.

"Look around you, Pan. What do you see? Because I see a cursed island filled with tortured kids waiting for their deaths while being led and held captive by a foolish old man in a body of their own age," I hissed bitterly. D.S. glared at me.

"Interesting. So you're telling me that you actually care about these boys? Because I don't think you even once thought about saving them. It's always about Scott. How you're here to protect him but not the rest of us," he fell silent, searching my eyes for a couple of minutes before letting out a 'hmph' followed by a smirk. He turned and waved, walking off. "Have fun here, love," he called. I watched him disappear into the forest, waiting for the inevitable moment when the mist began pulling on me once again. But it did no such thing. Suddenly, a new voice reached my ears.

"He left you here," it said. The sound was gentle; high and musical but filled with an undeniable sorrow and pain. I laughed tartly, keeping my hardened gaze fixated on the trees D.S. had walked into.

"What, you're surprised?" I asked, my voice cracking in anger and loneliness. The mysterious being hesitated in its response.

"Yes," it finally stammered. I smiled when it continued, but it was a humorless smile and resembled more of a bearing of teeth. "He didn't leave Tiger Lily here, nor Wendy or Tinkerbell. You're the first he's left."

"I figured that. But you see, he doesn't need me. I'm just a bother to him. A pesky little stalker bound to steal his Lost Boys," I giggled, finding the situation oddly funny. The unknown person added its own laughter to my own, and we continued like this for several minutes, neither of us wanting to stop for fear of the silence that would soon envelope the forest once again. Finally I stopped and turned around to face the falls, where I knew the voice was coming from.

There, upon the highest rocks of the azure cascade, a boy as blue as the water sat cross-legged, his head tipped back in joyous amusement. His hair fell in messy wisps of frail cyan as it twirled down towards his shoulders. His skin was much the same in pallor. Streams of water trailed across his body with fluid movements to match his own. Suddenly he stopped laughing as he realized I had stopped, and our gazes caught eachother.

"Do you know...why I tried to bring you into the falls, Mordred?" he asked me, his eyes empty save for a deep desolation too vast to comprehend. I shook my head no, causing his stare to soften considerably. "You see, these are my falls. I am their guardian; I am Emrys."

"The Singing Falls of Emrys," I breathed, awestruck. When I was younger, my mom had told me of such a place. He nodded.

"That would be correct."

"But...the falls...are a portal."

"That is also correct."

"A portal to where, though?" He smiled.

"Anywhere and everywhere. Off the island, even."

"So, then...why would he leave me with an escape route?" I asked, utterly baffled. His smile became somber.

"No, my dear, he did not leave you with an escape route," he closed his eyes, leaning back against the rock behind him. I cocked my head and he continued. "Miss Secret, the falls are a portal that takes you to the source of your worries. In Tiger Lily's case, it was her tribe. In Wendy's case, it was her brothers. In Tinkerbell's case, it was her home. But with you...it is here, in Neverland. You heard the screams of the Lost Boys. That is your worry, that is your fear. If you placed yourself in the falls, you would find yourself back at Pan's camp," his smile faded as disappointment and understanding settled on my face. "He was never giving you a chance to escape. He was giving you an easier way back to camp."

I was quiet for several minutes, my emotions frozen as I tried to fathom Emrys' words. "He was helping?" I managed at last.

"No. He never helps anyone...You would do well to remember that, Mordred Secret," the boy frowned, disappearing soon after. But his voice still rang in my ears as the fog dragged me relentlessly towards the water. "Do visit me in the near future, won't you, dear?" Then my toes touched the cool blue pool and my world was sent into a dizzy haze.

Barely a minute later I found myself back in camp, gasping. Seconds later I felt three pairs of hands grabbing at me and voices calling my name. "Mordred! Mordred!"

"She's fine, Scott." I looked up, my muscles straining as I coughed and struggled blindly against the hands of my friends. Peter Pan stood towering above me, his victorious smirk matching the gleam in his eyes. He knelt down infront of me, yanking my chin up to stare into my dazed eyes. "Do you see now? There is no way for you to escape this island, not through the Singing Falls of Emrys nor any way else."

I glared up at him, flames sparking in my irises as I whispered to him, "Oh, Shortie. You really have no idea."

**[Wow. Okay, that was out of genre. Kinda like...horror and angst? Well, I can sorta explain myself...See, since the 7th I've been completely put out by this story. It's hurried, bad writing, and frankly quite boring. Not to mention I have too many OCs distracting my purpose and plot line (sorry 'bout that). Then there's this bit about me having no idea where it's going (which is an utter and complete fail). So, I stopped writing, read roughly 15 other Peter Pan/OC fanfics to boost my morale and help stimulate my idea flow, and planned out what's going to happen.**

**Here's the plan:**

**-Longer chapters, less frequent updates**

**-(Hopefully) better, more descriptive writing.**

**-More angsty stuff to get the actual plot moving (I know you're all thinking, "What plot?")**

**-Less humor (to get to the plot, I need to replace some of the humor with angst. I am so sorry, this has to be done)**

**-Death (there is a 37% chance I will kill off certain characters. But, I want your opinion on this one. So, pleas review on your thoughts for this one)**

**-Lack of other OUAT characters. Henry and the others will not appear in this story due to abundance of characters.**

**-There will be a sequel. That's when Henry and the others'll pop up.**

**PLEASE INFORM ME OF THE CHANGES YOU DON'T LIKE! I WILL tone it down on many things, at your request. I WILL add stuff at your request (well, unless your idea has nothing to do with the story XD). So PLEASE do not hesitate to review and tell me what you want! ^^ Thank you for reading! -CaptainSquishy]**


	13. Chapter 10 - Cell Phone

RECAP:

Barely a minute later I found myself back in camp, gasping. Seconds later I felt three pairs of hands grabbing at me and voices calling my name. "Mordred! Mordred!"

"She's fine, Scott." I looked up, my muscles straining as I coughed and struggled blindly against the hands of my friends. Peter Pan stood towering above me, his victorious smirk matching the gleam in his eyes. He knelt down infront of me, yanking my chin up to stare into my dazed eyes. "Do you see now? There is no way for you to escape this island, not through the Singing Falls of Emrys nor any way else."

I glared up at him, flames sparking in my irises as I whispered to him, "Oh, Shortie. You really have no idea."

CHAPTER 10 - CELL PHONE (FELIX'S P.O.V.)

We all stood crowded around Mordred's backpack, glaring at it with our knives directed towards it. Pan stood beside me, his arms crossed while he stroked his chin, obviously deep in thought. Although I didn't want to bother him, I couldn't keep myself from asking the question that was burning in all of our minds. "...So, uh...what are we going to do with it?" I asked tentatively. He moved his hands to his hips, eyebrows furrowed and head slightly tilted.

"I'm trying to figure that out."

"...Have you figured it out yet?" I queried, not able to help myself. He threw his head back and glared at me, but eventually responded.

"We stand here and wait until Mordred and Scott come back. That's the plan," he growled. All of a sudden, the backpack stopped making that weird noise and fell silent, stilling as it ceased movement. Pan stared at it for a moment (as did we) before turning around and beginning to walk off. Two seconds later, the sound piped up again. We proceeded to jump in shock and Pan whipped around furiously, throwing his arms up in the air. "What the-"

"Hey guys, are none of you going to answer that?" a new voice entered the mix and we all turned, wide-eyed, to see Mordred and Scott standing behind us, her eyebrow cocked. Scott matched her expression as he took in our weapons.

"...Mordred, they're going to murder your backpack," he murmured into her ear. She nodded slightly, looking utterly baffled.

"Have you no manners? If someone's phone is ringing and they aren't there to answer it, you're supposed to answer it for them and tell the caller that the person they are trying to reach in unavailable." Pan narrowed his eyes at her.

"What are you talking about? We were waiting for you to get back so that you could tell us what your backpack's doing!" he snarled. She stared at him, as did Scott. He recovered first.

"The _backpack's_ doing something?" he gaped uncertainly as he eyed us all very carefully, like we were insane. Mordred backed him up.

"Guys, I told you not to eat that bread from last month. If it's green and decaying, it probably isn't fit for human consumption," her gaze flickered to Pan, "Or devil shortie consumption."

"_What are you talking about?_" Pan hissed, heat rolling off him in waves. Mordred rolled her eyes at him.

"My _phone_ is ringing, you idiot," she sighed, promptly walking over to the backpack and pulling out a small, rectangular object. We all stared at it, horribly confused. I tried to make out what the object was saying. Something about...rollin', hatin', and ridin' dirty. She raised her brows at us, shaking her head before flipping the top of the object up and putting it to her ear. The weird clamor stopped immediately after she did this. We all gasped, thinking it was magic, except for Pan, who stood there looking angry.

"Hello?" she asked. We stared at her.

"Uh, hi, Mordred," Smitt responded hesitantly. She rolled her eyes, shushing him.

"Hey, Nick. How'd the game go?" she asked. We stared at her.

"Um, Mordred...there isn't a Nick here..." She narrowed her eyes at Nokireo as he spoke, putting a finger to her lips to get him to shut up.

"I thought you were playing against the Ravens tonight!...Oh, so that game was last month...Yeah, sorry I couldn't come. I sort of got tied up...No, not literally, Nick. I was just a little busy, is all...Why do you need to know where I am?...Dude, I'm in Neverland. It's actually pretty cool, y'know, save for the douche bags," she gave Pan a pointed look, though he obviously didn't know what a 'douche bag' was. But I can't say anything, because I didn't know either. "...I'm not crazy, Nick-well, okay, I _am_ crazy, just not in the way you're saying...Scottie's here, too! How about I let him tell you we're in Neverland?...Alright, okay, here's Scottie," she passed the curly blonde the rectangle. He put it to his ear.

"Nick? Yo, wassup, man!...Nah, we're in Neverland...No, seriously...Well, how can I prove it to you?...Um, well, I guess I could let you talk to him, but he's not very friendly," Scott muttered into the box before holding it out towards...Pan. We all watched our leader as he stared at Scott's outstretched hand. After a moment of what we presumed to be deep thought, he removed the item from the boy's grip. Slowly he raised it to his own ear, looking at Mordred and Scott for guidance (they both nodded, sighing and face-palming after they did so).

"...Hello?" he asked tentatively. All of a sudden he jumped a bit, sending us all into panic. Then he calmed down, leaving half the Lost Boys in a position of someone who was about to bolt. "...I'm Peter Pan...What relationship do you have with Mordred?" he whipped out suddenly, making most of our eyes widen. I noticed that his shoulders had tensed up. After the foreign gadget responded (presumably) he relaxed. "...That's fine then." Suddenly, Mordred-eyes slanted-walked over to Pan, plucked the object from his grasp, poked a button, and handed it back to him.

Immediately a voice emanated from the trinket. "What were you gonna do if it _wasn't_ fine?" the voice taunted sarcastically. Pan's gaze locked with Mordred's, and I couldn't help but stare curiously along with the rest of the Lost Boys as he responded.

"I was going to have a...talk...with your dear friend, Mordred."

"Oh really?" the voice hissed. "You see, I don't think she'd like that." Pan's eyes narrowed, his expression cold as stone yet tantalizingly daring.

"You really have no idea," he countered.

"But I do, _Peter Pan_. If you think you can just..._talk_ with Mordred about things that don't concern you, you've got another thing coming. I don't care if you're her boyfriend or whatever, you don't own her. So you'd better stop trying to control her as if you do."

"I think you'll find that as long as she's on _my_ island, she belongs _to me_," our leader sneered, a certain darkness coming over his face.

"You keep telling yourself that. Just don't come crying to me when she flays you alive, homeboy," the voice began laughing when he said, 'homeboy' as did Scott and Mordred. "But seriously. Later, man...and do tell Mordred that the twins used her fire hydrant trick on Miss Macants," he finished. Mordred beamed as he said the last sentence, whispering "Finally!" before snatching the doodad away from Pan, who was about to smash it on the ground.

"Boy, what do you think you're doing?! You don't just go around smashing other people's phones!" she reprimanded him. He stared at her, an unrecognizable expression lighting his features.

"What's a phone?" he asked, appearing genuinely curious. Not waiting for her to respond, he shot out another question. "And what is that magic box? Who'd you get it from? Where'd they get the magic for it? Why-"

"Whoa, there. Slow down. This," she gestured to the thing in her hand, "is a phone. It feeds off electricity, not magic. But this one feeds on sunlight."

"But how did you get a connection out here?" Scott asked her. She shrugged, smirking.

"Dude, you know me. There are so many fanfictions I'm reading right now, I can't miss a single update!" she giggled. He joined her. After a minute, they sobered up, and Mordred continued answering Pan's questions under his penetrating glare. "As for who, I got it from Verizon." Pan cocked an eyebrow.

"There isn't anyone with magic named Verizon," he snapped. Mordred and Scott stared at him.

"Um, no, there isn't. But that's probably because Verizon isn't a person," she debated. Scott bit his lip, glancing around at our stunned expressions before turning back to the long-haired brunette.

"I...don't think they get it," he stated awkwardly. Mordred smiled uneasily.

"Nope. Definitely not." She waved her arm at all of us, "How about we just dismiss this as a 'do not discuss' topic, alright?" she queried, looking towards us for approval. We all slowly nodded our heads, even Pan. She beamed. "Okay, then! Who wants to jump around the fire like douche bags?" she suggested, appearing to purposely use 'douche bag' in the wrong context to see if any of them knew what it meant. The boys all ran back to the center of camp as I walked over to her.

"...So...what does 'douche bag' really mean?" I asked. She laughed, punching me in the shoulder playfully.

"It means awesome people," she grinned. For some reason, I didn't believe her.

(Pan's P.O.V.)

I watched Felix as he conversed with Mordred, irked at the way she smiled and whacked him gently in the arm, as if she didn't want to hurt him. I stormed back over there, grabbing her wrist and dragging her out to the forest, well aware of Scott and Felix's eyes watching my every move curiously. Once we were out of earshot, I slung her around in front of me. Her back hit a tree behind her. "Ow!" she whined. "_Dude_, if you wanted some alone time with Felix, you could've just said so! I mean, really, I have _no_ intention of ruining your bromance!" she protested heatedly. I was confused by her words, but understood the gist of what she was saying. Even so, I dismissed her opinion on the matter.

"I thought I told you to stay away from my Lost Boys!" I shouted at her, slamming my hands against the tree on either side of her. She snorted indignantly.

"Uh, yeah, you did."

"Yes, I did," I confirmed. We glared at eachother for a minute before she poked my eyebrow, giggling.

"Seriously, _how_ do your eyebrows do that?" she managed to inquire through her laughter. My glare deepened as I grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at me. She froze mid-laugh, gazing into my eyes with a lazy mixture of shock and curiosity.

"I already told you once, _Mordred_. This is your last warning. Next time you initiate contact with him-"

"Wait, _what_? You think-oh no. Oh no, you didn't. That's what you think-no. It didn't work out, so no." she finally settled on a sentence, throwing her hands up in exasperation. I glared at her.

"I don't believe that you've suddenly lost interest in him, Mordred. And as adorable you two might be together-"

"You _ship_ us?! What kind of hobby is that!" she exclaimed. I covered her mouth with my hand. What was she talking about?

"Shut up," I hissed, smirking at the shocked expression on her face. "What I'm saying is-Did you just lick my hand?" I asked, astonished by her actions as I moved my hand from her face.

"Yes. I definitely won't do that again. Do you guys have soap out here? Wash your hands, bro. It's good for hygiene," she stated. I stared at her before snapping out of it.

"Stop talking!" I ordered. She got quiet. "Listen carefully. Stay away from my Lost Boys, or next time there will be a punishment," I watched her as she took in my words. Her thinking face was funny-her eyebrows crinkled ever so slightly, and her tri-color irises lit up, forming a pretty mix of orange, blue, and green. The edges of her lips curled downwards just a bit, creating a partially bent line of rose-like pallor. I found myself leaning towards her, angling my head a bit as I neared her face. All of a sudden, she shoved me off.

"I gotta go pee. Be back in like five." I was left there, standing awkwardly against a tree with a stunned expression as she walked off into the forest.

**[Muahahahaha-*cough cough*. Okay, so, I feel really evil right now. XD I always wondered what the Lost Boys' reaction to a cell phone would be, so I wrote this. And I know the end was probably a bit inappropriate and...weird, but I'm a very weird person, so it's fine! :D Not to mention Mordred's weird and Pan's a psychopath. So yeah, hope you enjoyed! ^^ -CaptainSquishy]**


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